


Unconditional Love

by Pulteney



Category: Minority Report (TV 2015)
Genre: Arthur Watson PoV, Brother knows best, F/M, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Sibling conflict, Who's Afraid of Agatha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:26:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pulteney/pseuds/Pulteney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The strongest of the three precogs summons her brothers and detective Vega to Fiddlers Neck.</p><p>Agatha is calculating, Dash is in his element and Vega is along for the ride. Arthur observes it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unconditional Love

**Author's Note:**

> A look into the brain of Arthur, who - at this point - seems to be the only character on the show with more than two dimensions and a sense of humor that isn't predominantly unintentional. Thanks for that, show writers!
> 
> Some mild voyeurism (no, not what you‘re thinking) but mostly a conversation between siblings. If you're looking for Dash and Vega actually hooking up, this isn't that story. Not yet, anyways.
> 
> Set in-canon, somewhere between the end of episode 5 and whatever happens in episode 6 once they make it to the precogs‘ house on Fiddler‘s Neck.
> 
> un-beta'ed and edited yet again, for which I apologize, but I'd be happy to hear any and all of your thoughts on it in any case.
> 
> enjoy!

Dash's giddy enthusiasm was so acute, one could practically see it radiating off him in waves, and so contagious that it seemed to conquer even Vega's perpetual, trademark look of surly discontent. At least, Arthur thinks, it had lessened considerably halfway though the grand tour of the farm Dash was subjecting his partner to. Arthur had willingly plodded along for the first half - if only for the sheer hilarity of observing Vega being confronted with an environment so completely alien to her she might as well have gone on a safari in Africa. Being a man of decidedly finite patience, however (and not nearly as much of a lover of nature as his twin), he'd excused himself halfway into Dash's detailed lecture on the theoretical functioning of the century-old tractor that had been left to rust by the entrance to the barn long before the precogs first arrived on the island.

He'd made it back out onto the porch with a nice glass of spiked iced tea just in time to witness the spectacle of his brother all but _dashing_ about the coop in order to introduce Vega to _every single one_ of Agatha's dozen chickens. By name. And he couldn't have asked for a better front row seat to witness Vega's grinch-face reappear with a vengeance as soon as she realized Dash was towing her towards the horses.

 

Arthur can‘t really blame her.

 

While Samantha certainly is the most beautiful horse Arthur has ever seen, her inherently aloof, distrustful disposition easily matched that of her mistress.

He knew what he was talking about: despite his best efforts, Arthur had gotten bitten more times than he cared to admit over the years.

Dash was a completely different story, though - he was capable of forming an eerie, almost instant connection with absolutely _every_ horse Arthur had ever observed him interact with. If you ask Dash, it is a simple matter of honesty and trust: Be forthright with nine hundred pounds of skittish bone and muscle and you have nothing to fear - try to mask your disposition and you won't get anywhere, except maybe into a world of hurt if you keep forcing yourself onto the nag.

If you ask Arthur, it all boils down to this: His siblings are horse-people, he is not.

Which was absolutely fine with him. He can still admire the inherent beauty of the animals from afar, just as he is doing now, while the clearly agitated white mare firmly puts herself between her offspring and that strange new woman Dash is busy herding towards the fence, with the primal, determined protectiveness inherent in all mothers.

The foal itself remains curious - it keeps trying to get around its mother and closer to the fence, while Samantha and Vega eye each other with wary distrust.

Dash, as always, appears oblivious to all of it. He steps right up behind Vega so her back is flush against his chest and bodily walks her forward, until she is right up against the fence with no clear route of escape. Then he grabs her hand.

 

" _Nice_." Arthur hears himself comment to the pastoral serenity around him. This little trip is shaping up to be all kinds of interesting.

 

Before much else happens at the paddock, he hears the door to the house open behind him. The pleasant smell of some type of chicken-and-vegetable-casserole precedes the appearance of Agatha. _'Dinner must be ready'_ , Arthur concludes, while glancing over his shoulder to see his sister stand in the door frame.He feels a very old happiness begin to bubble up in his chest when he notices her initial warm smile, only to feel it die again in an instant the moment she catches sight of Dash and Vega by the fence.

Gone is the smile and in its place appears that disconcerting mask of guarded vigilance Agatha wears for anyone who isn't family.

 _'Dun dun dun dun'_ Arthur thinks with dejected cynicism, turns his head back around and steels himself for another installment of their same-old, same-old talk of milkbaths and treachery. He idly wonders if the change in temperature he believes to be feeling is entirely in his mind, or if any second now the birds will stop singing in the trees.

But the birds keep singing, and Agatha seems - at least for the moment - to be as tired of their usual exchange as he is. Instead, she steps out of the shadows the late evening paints onto the cottage walls to join him in observing their brother and his detective in their attempt to woo her horses.

Dash was making good headway in all directions, by the looks of it:

He certainly got the attention of Samantha, who has lowered her head somewhat and regards both humans with attentively pricked ears, the nervous swishing of her tail all but stopped.

Vega, too, seems visibly more relaxed where she leans into Dash, while her outstretched arm looks suitably steady as he helps her extend it toward the mare, palm flat and pointing upwards, doubtlessly offering some small treat to win Samantha over.

The look on his brother's face is one of calm confidence, and Arthur is pretty sure he can see his lips in constant motion near Vega‘s ear - doubtlessly pitching his voice low and offering quiet encouragement to everyone involved.

Arthur can feel the small, fond smile steal onto his face with perfect clarity. Apparently, so can Agatha, whose gaze doesn't waver from the display before her when she addresses him:

„Is this why you keep helping them?“

There were a dozen reasons - some better than others, most more of a fraternal gut feeling than anything he‘d be able to convincingly put into words for himself, let alone their sister. None of them were as simple and succinct as this.

„Yes.“

He feels her shift beside him, moved by his simple confirmation of what she can now, for the first time, observe for herself. They both know there is no arguing with a truth as plain as this. Agatha doesn‘t even try.

„This isn't going to end well, Arthur“, she says instead.

Maybe it isn‘t. Then again - maybe it will, after all. If _anyone_ on this planet knew that the future wasn't set in stone, would still, could always be altered, it was Agatha. He truly wonders what had happened to her that made her the most likely of the three to willingly disregard this simple fact so frequently. He also knows that expressing his doubts in this regard will do nothing but make her cling even harder to her convictions.

„So you keep saying.“ He acknowledges.

„He should never have left. He has no business being _out there_.“

And there it was again - her inherent distrust of the Big Bad World. Not just of the government and its institutions, not of society in general, but of the very _people_ themselves. He understands her primal need for seclusion perfectly well. Not in the way his siblings do due to the inherently different quality of his gift, but thanks to observing the vile underbelly of humanity from up close; in his effort to provide them all with the connections, funds and leverage they may one day need when someone takes an interest in the precogs again. But he also understands Dash‘s burning desire to do good. To salvage, protect and fight for the innocents that got hurt every day, by no fault of their own. And really - the world wasn‘t all that bad. Even from his decidedly seedy vantage point, it looks mostly good. At least most of the time. Certainly better than what Agatha makes it out to be.

„I've been _out there_ for years, haven't I? By our mutual agreement?“ He reminds her mildly.

„You know perfectly well how that's different!“

"Is it, really? In principle? Doesn't Dash have the right to go out and make his own life, too? His own friends?" Despite her own misgivings about the world at large, Arthur knows Agatha would never deny him that. Former prisoners don't make very good jailers.

„She will hurt him.“

„I don't think so. Not deliberately. And not if she can help it. That much even I can see, Agatha.“ It's the best he can offer her for the moment. They are all still relatively new to this: Dash and Vega to their fledgling partnership as much as Arthur, their reluctant accomplice, to the notion of helping people for some elusive 'greater good' with no direct payoff for himself. Still - the bond these two were forming was already beginning to look just as strong as the underlying motives that drove them to seek each other out in the first place.

„Then he will hurt himself for her. He's already doing it, isn't he? And you're letting him, Arthur. You're _helping_ him do it.“ Heavens, not this again.

„Well, maybe that's a lesson he has to learn for himself!" he says, exasperated. They had been over this before countless times, their roles always the same: Agatha insisting upon protecting Dash from the world, Arthur fiercely arguing for self-agency and independence. It was the very same argument they'd had before _he_ had first made his way to the city, all those years ago. They wouldn't resolve it today - if they'd ever resolve it. Which didn't stop him from making his point one more time: "He cares too much, but that's who he is, isn't it? The only thing he ever wanted was to help people - who am I to take that away from him?“

"You are his brother!" Does she really think he needs a reminder?

"Yes, exactly. That's why I'm right by his side when he needs me, instead of harping at him from half a world away. Unconditional love, Agatha“ He pauses to let that thought sink in. Considers the scene before him. Looks for a new step in their old dance. „He's got mine, just like she has his.“

Agatha shakes her head, undeterred. Her eyes remain firmly fixed on Vega "I would have expected _you_ to have moved in at this point." Apparently, he isn't the only one going off script today.

For a moment, Arthur is thrown. Incredulity, anger and indignation are warring for pride of place in his mind. He can't believe Agatha, of all people, is suggesting this. Doesn't want to admit, even to himself, how enticingly valid this option had seemed in the first few weeks after Vega made an appearance in their lives. Before he came to realize how much she truly meant to his brother. Anger wins and he has to consciously remind himself to keep his voice down.

"Seriously? You think my way of dealing with this is taking her away from him? Betray is trust and break his heart? Like _that_? For _what_? What kind of goddamn brother do you take me for?"

Agatha appears unimpressed by his vehemence, if her suggestively challenging look is any indication. "One who watches out for his siblings. One who, in the end, only has their best interest at heart. No matter what it takes."

Yeah, here they are again. Whatever it takes. God, he's _so_ done with this.

„Why do you refuse to believe me when I tell you that that's exactly what I'm doing already?" He asks, with enough plaintive finality in his voice to hopefully end this fruitless discussion. He seems to be in luck - With one last sigh of frustrated contemplation, Agatha tears her eyes away from Vega and Dash and turns around to face him fully.

 

And for the first time in a long time, Arthur sees beyond the layers of annoyance, frustration and repressed anger that so defined her recent interactions with him.

Sees the anguish, the fear and the sisterly love beneath it all with sudden, disarming clarity. Realizes that Agatha isn't just distraught by the fact that Dash seems to have slipped from her direct control, is more than simply afraid to end up in a resurrected milkbath herself. Understands that at the heart of it all, she is just as worried for their little brother's well-being as he is.

And for the first time _in his life_ , he doesn‘t feel like the younger sibling, or the weaker precog, but like an _older_ brother, able to lend confidence and support to his sister. He can‘t help himself but pull her into a one-armed hug.

„Trust me, Agatha. I've got this.“ He tells her solemnly, hoping to a God he never believed in that he's right. That he will still be right in the end.

 

Agatha thankfully pulls away before he has time to grow uncomfortable with his own newfound sincerity. To his immense relief, he finds a spark of trust in her eyes and the ghost of a smile on her lips. She walks back towards the door, leaving him to continue observing his brother unintentionally romance a woman.

 _'If wishes were horses'_ he thinks nonsensically, and immediately rolls his eyes at himself for the poetic soppiness of it all. He really hates how this place gets to him sometimes.

Behind him, he feels her linger in the door frame for a moment. When he shoots her a curious look, he finds her eyes fixed on the _ménage-a-horse_ by the paddock with uncharacteristically mild exasperation.

 

„You both better not mess it up, then.“

 _'Isn't that the truth'_ Arthur thinks.

 

Across the farmyard, his brother's patient persistence seems to have finally paid off:

Judging from the careful, mesmerized way Vega was now stroking Samantha's nose, she must have overcome her initial reservations toward the white mare. Which didn't stop Dash from lingering in her personal space, observing the formation of the time-honored bond between girl and equine from mere inches away. His smile is so reverently smitten it nearly makes _Arthur_ feel lovesick thirty yards away.

The casserole can wait for another minute, he decides. Placing both hands firmly on the sun-warmed wood of the porch railing, Arthur closes his eyes and lifts his face to soak in the last rays of evening sunshine that filter through the tall trees. _'Crisis temporarily averted'_ he thinks, not a little self-congratulatory. Hell - it even looked like the weather would hold and they'd be spared the rain for the night.

As grand, sleek and exciting as his life in DC was - it was moments like these that made Arthur realize that some small part of him would always miss this place, and the happy moments he had spent bonding with his little family here. Beneath the insects, the lack of amenities and the mind-numbingly _boring_ solitude, there was beauty. And a primal sense of belonging he knew neither he, nor either of his siblings would ever truly be able to experience anywhere else.

How did that line from the old movie go? _There is no place like home_.

 

A happy snort from their youngest horse, immediately followed by Vega's startled laugh, brings him back to the here and now. Judging from the way Dash was awkwardly trying to shrug his jacket back into place, the filly must have used his brother‘s preoccupation with his partner to take a closer look at one of his sleeves and given it a good pull.

Either way, their mutual little moment is broken. _‚Better head inside before Aggie gets mad‘_ Arthur decides, whistles and waves at the pair by the paddock. He motions for the house and takes one last look at the brilliant orange glow of the sun setting behind the trees. He locks the image away deep inside his heart before he turns and goes inside.

He‘s already washing his hands when he briefly wonders if the astronomy book Wally gave him as a parting gift all those years ago still sits on the shelf in his old bedroom.

He could grab it on his way to the table and leave a _literal_ hint lying around the living room, just as a precaution. Strictly to have a possible out in case the dinner conversation spoils the collective mood and they are all left to see out the night with nothing but stilted conversation and the stifling presence of latent distrust and carefully guarded prejudice in the air between them. He has done his bit to keep the peace for today, and the last thing he is looking for is doing another round after a day of traveling and on a full stomach.

Yeah, he's definitely going to 'misplace' that book.

 

And if his little brother has any sense at all, he'll take Vega stargazing tonight.

 


End file.
